Put your iPod on shuffle and list the first ten songs -- no substitutions, no mulligans, no ethnic cleansing, no awkward justifications of any guilty pleasures. Post your selections as a comment.
If you don't have an iPod, put your CD collection in a moving box, shake it around, and pick ten random albums. Also, rent a U-Haul and move to the new millenium. Apple has decreed that our entire musical identities will fit in a box smaller than an M16 magazine.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Jimmy Saffron, September 19, 2006

1. Petula Clark – “Heart,” from Girl Group Sounds of the Sixties (One Kiss Can Lead to Another)

There is some serious lobbying happening on behalf of this box set within my iPod. If my iPod is Capitol Hill, this box set is Big Oil.

This song takes its sweet time, which makes me like it. I like to take my sweet time, too. Doing what, you ask? What do you think? What do you think I like taking my sweet ass time with? I think you know. I think you know and just don’t want to say.

Uh-huh. Yep. You know.

2. Radiohead – “Dollars & Cents,” from Amnesiac

That’s what I call poor sequencing on the part of my iPod.

I know, the iPod is not a sentient being. It has no intelligence or "taste." It can’t be blamed for following up that first choice cut with this pretentious snoozer, for taking this mix from “boner-inducing” to “boner-reducing” in less than a second. Typical iPod spin, always hiding behind its randomness.

You know what I miss most about the America of my youth, with its radio stations and live DJ’s. Little thing called “accountability. “

3. Fred McDowell - “Goin’ Down To Louisiana,” from Mississippi Blues

This song has a tight hold on the #4 slot of my “Bally’s Tai Bo/Treadmill Thighs-Be-Gone-in-the-’06 Mixx.”

Believe it.

4. The Black Keys – “Grown So Ugly,” from Rubber Factory

I saw these guys last week. The good news is my dick grew by 4 inches. The bad news is its gotten very opinionated.

5. Spacehog – “The Horror,” from The Hogyssey

Some say Spacehog should have stopped after The Chinese Album. And there’s a valid argument there, because The Chinese Album is a work of genius. But they titled their followup record The Hogyssey, and that act of Homeric-level hubris alone deserves recognition.

6. Ramones – “I Can’t Be (Demo),” from Ramones

I watched a documentary about The Ramones called “End of the Century,” and its effect on me was something I never could have predicted. It made me love Johnny Ramone. Crabby, unapologetic, reactionary Johnny, the taskmaster. Dee Dee come across as a crazy person, and Joey like a sweet, dopey alien. Johnny was honest.

7. Deerhoof – “You Can See,” from The Runners Four

Somewhere, right now, a Pitchfork editor can’t understand why his girlfriend doesn’t find this music adorable.

8. Simon & Garfunkel – “Cloudy,” from Old Friends

I heard there’s a school of psychology that places every element of a man’s personality into two distinct categories: the Simon and the Garfunkel. The Simon in me thinks it preposterous that the two categories should get equal weight. The Garfunkel in me thinks it’s a wonderful idea, really groovy, thanks so much.

9. Shudder to Think – “Tony Told Me,” from Funeral At The Movies

Thank god Craig Wedren decided to use the power of his vibratto for good and not evil. Cause that shit could topple buildings.

I heard Bush wants to launch a pre-emptive strike on Wedren’s studio apartment to keep him from supplying his voice to terrorists. It could happen. 9/11 changed everything.

Well, not everything. I still can’t decide what color I want to paint the walls in my bedroom. It’s also that I don’t know how much longer I’ll be in that apartment, so I keep putting the whole thing off.

Never forget.

10. A.C. Newman – “Drink To Me, Babe, Then,” from The Slow Wonder

I heard Bob Newhart put out this record during a hiatus from his Canadian power-pop supergroup The Newhart Pornographers.

Pitchfork gave it a 5.4. They only like when he records with Neko Pleshette.